Jim Taylor clutched the reins of his horse as though he expected it to throw him off at any moment. He’d said he knew how to ride, and Meg wanted to talk to his sister more. So she’d insisted he take her horse.
Maybe that had been a mistake.
If he didn’t calm down, he was going to have a stroke. Though, to be fair, the horse was the least of his concerns.
Even so, it might have been a better idea to let Jim stay in the wagon with Barb and Jenny. Jenny hadn’t stopped talking yet. How did the girl have so many words? Meg would never understand.
Meg hadn’t stopped her, though.
And, to her credit, Barb didn’t either, though Meg still wasn’t convinced about her motivation. Barb could still be planning an attack or assessing them for weaknesses.
She hadn’t said a word. She’d only stared at Meg impassively since they’d ridden out of Baari Village.
That was fine.
Meg stared right back.
Jenny either didn’t notice or didn’t care and kept chattering away, asking questions that she didn’t wait to have answered and rambling forward in excitement like always.
The wagon jolted, and Barb clenched her eyes shut, jaw straining as she breathed through the obvious pain of her injuries.
She’s strong. Meg sat against the wagon wall. And tough.
None of her injuries were life-threatening, but they were certainly enough to cause discomfort. A lesser person would be complaining or at least moaning.
“There it is!” Jenny clapped her hands. “Do you see it? Isn’t it beautiful?”
Barb shifted her eyes first, keeping her face fixed on Meg—at least until she realized what Jenny was talking about. Then her whole body turned in astonishment toward Prism Castle.
“Whoa,” Barb mumbled.
“See?” Jim laughed and then wobbled in the saddle as the horse surged forward slightly.
Stately and elegant, Prism Castle shimmered under the afternoon sun, its many turrets standing proudly among the passing clouds and the banners of the Josharon Tribes caught up in the wind. Iridescent white stones reflected the sun and made the castle sparkle, as though it had been made of starlight.
“It does look like Neuschwanstein,” Barb said under her breath, still staring at the castle.
“That’s what Jim said.” Meg folded her arms. “What does that mean?”
Slowly, cautiously, Barb returned her gaze to Meg and gathered her injured arm tightly against her chest. “There’s a castle in a country at home—in our world—that looks very much like it. It’s in Bavaria. In Germany. But it’s—different.”
“Different how?”
“Well, it doesn’t sparkle like that.”
Jenny giggled. “Oh, you should see it in the morning! When the sunlight first hits it, the castle walls make rainbows in the sky.”
Barb wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t seem plausible.”
“It’s true,” Meg said. “It’s how Rainbow Valley got its name, because of Prism Castle.”
Barb looked toward the giant structure on the horizon once more. “How is it possible?”
“It’s the stone the castle was built—”
“Not that,” Barb snapped. “How is it possible that a castle almost identical to one in our world could exist in this world?” She shook her head. “Did mad King Ludwig II take a day trip to this crazy place before he commissioned Neuschwanstein?”
“I don’t know what that means.”
Barb scoffed and sat back against the wagon wall. “So.”
“So what?”
“So—how did you get here?”
Meg flared her nostrils at the other girl. Jenny started to respond and then stopped herself, glancing at Meg. She blinked huge eyes at her big sister and waited for once.
“Why are you asking?” Meg tipped her head.
“I’m curious.”
“Not good enough.”
Barb flashed a sharp canine tooth. “Can I be honest?”
Meg gave her a tight smile. “I’d prefer it.”
“Uh-oh,” Jim muttered on the back of the horse.
With a wince, Barb sat forward. “I know who you are.” She glanced at Jenny. “Your sister here told me your last name, and I don’t believe in coincidence.”
Jenny twiddled her thumbs. “Oh. Sorry, Meg.”
“It’s a common last name, sure,” Barb said, “but how many kids named Mitchell went missing in the last ten years? How many of them were two girls and a boy? How many of them were exactly the same age as you are?” She smirked triumphantly. “If she hadn’t said your last name, I might not have made the connection.”
Poor Jenny sagged like a wet daisy. The girl just got so excited about everything, she didn’t stop to think before she spoke. And it’s not like they had to hide their identities from anyone in Andaria. Everyone in Rainbow Valley knew their story and where they’d come from. Jenny wasn’t used to concealing anything from anyone.
I’ll have to talk to her about it later. Meg chewed her bottom lip. It’s not her fault. We all should have talked about this more in case it ever happened—because now it has and we don’t know what to do about it.
“You’re the missing Mitchell kids,” Barb said with a sharp laugh. “And you’ve been here all this time. Everyone looked for you, even Phoenix Munroe. It’s the only case she never solved.” Barb’s expression turned grim. “Some people think that’s why she went bad.”
The emotions flickering across Barb’s face and in her eyes was like watching a fountain, the ebb and flow of feeling intense and powerful.
“Yes,” Meg said. “My brother and sister and I fell into this world on accident, and we chose not to return.”
“Why?”
“We found a family here, not that it’s any of your business.”
“I’m making it my business.” Barb shifted her legs. “There are a lot of people looking for you, and finding you might actually answer some important questions that have been left open for ten years.”
Just like I thought. She thinks she can take us back.
“We’re not going back,” Meg said.
Barb raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”
“No.” Meg clenched her fists in her embroidered blouse. “I actually don’t think you’ve considered your situation, Miss Taylor.”
“I always consider my situation.” Barb sneered. “And how about you just call me Barb?” Barb lifted her chin with a feral smirk. “Hm? Since we’re being honest.”
Jenny curled her hand around Meg’s ankle, shrinking back from her new red-headed friend. She clutched the neck of her blouse, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. “Please, Meg, be nice.”
Nice? Meg fought the urge to glare at her sister. She wants me to be nice? Isn’t she hearing this conversation? Doesn’t she know what she’s done? Can’t she understand what this Terran is going to do to us if we let her go?
“Here’s the facts, Barb.” Meg enunciated the Terran girl’s name very slowly. “You and your brother came here to our home, and you broke a lot of rules to do it. That made trouble.”
“We’re good at trouble.”
“Now that you know who we are and you’re threatening to tell everyone about us,” Meg snarled, “do you actually think I’ll let you go back?”
“Meg,” Jenny whispered.
Barb’s face turned stony. “Oh, I see. You have to give us permission to go back?”
“Barb,” Jim hissed from the back of the horse.
Meg leaned forward. “As long as you pose a threat to my family, I won’t let Velanna send you home.”
Barb shifted so that she could mirror Meg’s pose. “I think you’d better reconsider that, Meg.”
“I think you both need to calm down.” Jenny raised her hands between them. “Can we just—be friends? And get along? And like each other?”
“No,” Barb said.
“You heard her, Jenny. She said no.”
“Barb, come on. Knock it off.” Jim groaned as he struggled to keep hold of the reins and guide the horse.
Barb glanced back at him in shock. “Haven’t you been listening? This little brat isn’t going to send us home, just because we figured out their secret.”
Jim rolled his eyes. “I don’t think that’s why, Barb.”
The horse side-stepped, and he yelped, scrambling to pull the reins in any direction that would make the horse obey.
“May I interject with some amount of rationality?” Tzaitel leaned over the bench seat and threw a sly smile at them.
Barb huffed at her.
Meg swallowed a retort.
“We may not be able to send you back to your world, Miss Taylor,” Tzaitel said gently. “It is not a matter of what we wish or do not wish. It is a matter of energy requirement. It is a matter of calculated mathematical formulas. And all of this is a mere hypothesis in the face of the unknown, because whatever you have done to the barrier may prevent any future travel.”
Barb snorted. “We didn’t do anything.”
Jim managed to steer the horse next to the wagon bed. “We did, Barb.” He looked down at her grimly. “I told Fallen we were messing with something beyond us, but he didn’t listen. And I didn’t stop him.”
“I just brought you lunch, Jim. I’m never bringing you lunch again.” Barb settled back against the wagon wall and turned her burning green eyes on Meg. “If we’re stuck here, then I’m going to have some very strong words to say to you. Meg.”
“Oh. Goody.” Meg gave her a thumbs up. “Can’t wait for that.”
Jenny smacked her leg. “You are being rude.”
“I’m being rude?”
“Yes! They’re our guests.” Jenny gestured to Barb and Jim with a flourish. “We should be nice to them.”
“Jenny, have you heard any part of the conversation we just had?”
“That wasn’t a conversation. That was an argument. And no, I didn’t listen. I don’t like it when you’re mean.”
Meg gaped at her. “I’m the mean one?”
“You tell her, kid.” Barb smirked.
“You’re mean too.” Jenny pointed at her.
Barb scowled.
“I think you both need to just fight each other and be friends.” Jenny sighed in exasperation. “You’ll feel lots better once you work off some of this aggression, and then you’ll realize what cool people you actually are. And you’ll be best friends forever!”
Meg stared at her sister in disgust for a moment before she realized Barb was regarding her the same way. They locked eyes at the same time.
“You’re not cool,” Barb said sharply.
“Neither are you.” Meg made a face. “You’re—the uncoolest of the uncool people.”
Barb arched an eyebrow at her.
Meg glanced at her sister. “Being cool is good, right?”
Jenny rolled her eyes.
“Being cool is good.” Meg nodded and folded her arms stiffly. “So that makes you not cool. Because you—aren’t. So there.”
The corner of Barb’s mouth had started to curve upward, but she wrangled it back into a scowl. “Are we there yet?”
Meg adjusted her position in the wagon and sank against the boards. Barb fell silent finally, and the rest of the journey continued in relative quiet. Only broken by Jim’s random yelps when the horse he was riding surprised him. Or when Jenny thought of something she deemed essential that Barb knew—like pointing out birds and trees and flowers and clouds that were shaped like baby bunnies.
Actually, no, the trip wasn’t quiet at all.
But soon enough, the wagon wheels rattled across the drawbridge into the gatehouse of Prism Castle. Meg stretched her arms out over her head and stood when the wagon came to a stop.
Tzaitel nodded at her and climbed off the wagon, moving to unhitch the horses and tend to them in the castle stables.
“All right.” Jenny popped up and smiled at Barb. “Let’s get you inside and taken care of with some real bandages.”
For once, Barb didn’t have a smart response. Her eyes were focused on the inner courtyard of Prism Castle, on the armored Josharons along the battlements, and the busy bustling of the Josharon workers inside the castle walls.
“This is incredible,” she muttered.
“I told you, didn’t I?” Jim slid off the horse with a painful grunt and gladly handed the reins to the Josharon stable worker who was waiting for him.
A flash of orange caught Meg’s attention just before Danny’s freckled face popped above the wagon wall. “Hey!”
Barb jumped and hissed in pain as she jarred her shoulder.
“Danny!” Jenny smacked his head.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“You scared her.”
“I didn’t!”
“He didn’t scare me,” Barb snarled.
“See?” Danny stuck his tongue out at Jenny. “Tolan, check it out!”
Meg braced her arms on the wagon wall as Tolan Ittai approached them. He peered at Barb and Jim for a moment before he turned his gaze to Meg.
“What an exciting day this is turning out to be.” His eyes twinkled.
He moved to the back of the wagon and lowered the gate, offering his hand to Jenny. “Jennifer?”
“Meg and Barb are having a staring contest,” Jenny said as she accepted Tolan’s help down from the wagon.
“Oh? Who is winning?” Tolan smiled.
Jenny grinned. “Neither of them. They’re perfect for each other.”
“Ah, excellent.” Tolan beamed. “Glad to see you’ve made a friend, Margaret.”
“A friend?” Meg and Barb exclaimed together.
Tolan lifted his brow at them both with a warm smile.
Meg grunted and jumped out of the wagon. “It’s not funny. Stop smiling.”
Barb rolled to her knees and climbed painfully to her feet, wincing with every motion. Tolan maintained his position and offered his hand to her.
“I can do it myself.” She didn’t look at him.
“I have no doubt of that, young lady.” Tolan held out his hand again. “But there is no need.”
Barb flared her nostrils at him and then grudgingly took his hand. Tolan helped her balance and then lifted her to the ground before she could object. The moment her feet touched the stones of the courtyard, she teetered. Tolan caught her around her waist, supporting her until the dizzy spell passed.
“I’m fine,” she hissed, though she didn’t let him go.
“You are.” Tolan nodded.
He lifted his face to make eye contact with Jim.
“I shall let your brother help you now, shall I?”
“Thanks.” Jim stepped in and took his sister’s arm.
Barb leaned on him heavily. Her face was the same color as Prism Castle’s walls.
“Come this way.” Jenny took Jim’s arm. “We’ll get her fixed up.”
Jim followed after Jenny, helping Barb take one step at a time.
Meg stood with her arms crossed and her mouth turned down.
Tolan slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side in a gentle hug. “This sour face does not look right on you, little sunbeam.”
Meg leaned her head against his chest. “This is a mess, Tolan. A terrible mess.”
His fingers tightened on her shoulder.
“They know who we are.” Her voice shook.
“And?”
“If we let them go back to Terran, they’ll tell everyone, and then people will come here and try to take us away. And Terran will invade and be everywhere and fill up Andaria with their buildings and their cars and their noise.”
“Margaret.”
Tolan’s voice rumbled in his chest, a comforting sound that dulled the sharp edges of her building anxiety.
“What?” she asked miserably.
He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head. “What are you truly worried about, my dear?”
Meg sulked. “I don’t like them.”
Tolan waited quietly.
Meg twitched her fingers as she clutched her blouse in her fists. “Barb is rude. And pushy. And—and—stubborn.”
Tolan didn’t say a word.
“And everyone is so happy they’re here, and nobody sees them for what they really are.”
“What are they really, Margaret?”
“Dangerous.” Meg stepped back from him. “They’re dangerous, Tolan. They brought danger here, and we can’t trust them.”
His eyes were still smiling. “Is tending their wounds tantamount to trusting them, Margaret?”
Meg stammered. “No.”
“Is considering our options on how to get them home safely the same as trusting them?”
Meg stuck out her lower lip. “No.”
The smile in his eyes migrated to his mouth. “So, what are you truly worried about, Margaret?”
Meg tilted her head back, feeling frustrated tears burning in her eyes. “We don’t know anything about them.”
“Yes?”
“We don’t know what they’re going to do. And if they do something bad or they hurt someone or because they’re here, they bring trouble here—what if we can’t stop something bad from happening? What if I can’t stop it?”
Meg’s lower lip trembled in spite of her attempts to make it stop.
“I just want them to go away, Tolan. Can’t we just make them go away?” She fell against his chest, and he wrapped her in his arms.
“My darling Margaret,” he chuckled softly, “you carry so many fears. Must it be so?”
Meg clutched the back of his tunic and breathed in the scent of hay and earth and grass and wind. He held her tightly, one hand between her shoulders, one hand at the back of her head.
“It is true,” he said softly, “we do not know them well, but that is something we can fix.”
Meg pulled back to look up at him. “How?”
He grinned. “We can attempt an age-old tactic often used by the great Sages of Celtica.” His eyes laughed. “We can talk to them.”
Meg rolled her eyes and dashed a tear off her face. “Maybe I don’t want to get to know them.”
“I find that unlikely.” He wiped the rest of the tear tracks off her face with gentle thumbs. “As much as it irks you, Jennifer is right. The flame-haired one will be a good friend for you.”
Meg scowled. “Ugh. What? No! She’s awful. Didn’t you hear me? She’s rude and bossy and loud and—and—and—”
“And?”
“Human.”
Tolan snorted. “Yes, a great invective indeed.”
Meg scoffed, and he kissed the top of her head.
“Come, little sunbeam, let us find your new friends.” His smile made her smile. “Let us both be honest, shall we? Jennifer will get to know them regardless of whether we want her to or not.”
“Or whether they want to or not?”
“Precisely.”
Meg leaned against him as they walked toward the stairs that led into the castle. The yawning pit of anxiety that had been putting knots in her stomach had loosened somewhat. Talking to Tolan always helped calm her down.
“How come you always know what to say?” she asked.
His arm tightened around her again. “I’m very old, Margaret.” He chuckled. “And your worries are not so different from everyone else’s.”
“Really?”
“Really.” His teal-colored eyes smiled warmly, laugh lines crinkling in the corners of his face. “Even your mother worries from time to time.”
“Velanna says she never worries.” Meg pressed her lips together. “It’s a waste of time and energy, and it’s an emotional response.”
His smile softened a little, the light in his eyes growing sad. “Well, she isn’t wrong about that, Margaret.”
“Which part?” Meg frowned. “That it’s a waste of time and energy and that it’s an emotional response? Or that she never worries?”
He pulled the door to the hearth room open so they could walk into the castle. “I’ll let you make up your own mind about that.”

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